The seed lay still now.
No glow.
No movement.
No heartbeat.
But Rohan knew it wasn't dead.
It was waiting.
He stepped back slowly,
keeping his eyes on it
like it was a sleeping creature
that might wake if he breathed too loudly.
The silence in his room
felt heavier than ever—
as if someone had closed the world around him.
Rohan opened Shruti's diary again,
hoping for answers.
But as soon as he touched the page—
KNOCK.
A single soft knock
echoed at his door.
Rohan froze.
Not the front door of the house.
Not the window.
His bedroom door.
He whispered to himself:
"No… someone can't be inside…"
The knock came again.
Same soft.
Same slow.
Tap…
.....tap…
Like fingertips
that barely existed.
Rohan forced himself to speak:
"Who's there?"
Silence.
The seed gave a faint pulse.
THUMP.
Rohan's chest tightened.
"Shruti…?"
He whispered.
No answer.
Only the silence…
growing thicker.
He took one shaky step toward the door.
Then another.
His hand reached the handle—
And stopped.
A soft mist
began slipping in
from under the door.
Red.
Shruti's color.
The mist curled upward,
forming her faint outline.
But this time,
she wasn't inside the room.
She was standing right behind the door.
Her silhouette was weak,
flickering around the edges
like she was dissolving.
A silent message hit Rohan's mind:
"…don't open it…"
Rohan backed away fast.
"Why not!?
What's outside!?"
Shruti's silhouette convulsed—
as if something on the other side
was pulling her away.
Her message was broken:
"…it's… not… me…"
Rohan's heart jumped.
He looked at the door—
the handle was turning
very slowly…
Very quietly…
Without a sound.
Someone—
or something—
was on the other side.
Trying to come in.
Rohan stepped back
until he hit his table.
The seed pulsed.
THUMP.
THUMP.
The diary flipped open on its own.
A single line appeared,
written violently across the page:
"DON'T LET THE ORCHARD INSIDE."
Rohan's blood ran cold.
The knock changed.
It was no longer soft.
Tap…
....tap…
..........TAP.
Stronger.
Heavier.
Waiting for him to open.
Shruti's silhouette flickered desperately.
Another broken message:
"…if it enters…
you can't leave…"
Rohan's hand shook so badly
he almost dropped the diary.
The door handle fully turned.
The latch clicked.
Silence shattered in his chest.
He didn't think—
he ran to the window
and pushed it open.
Cold night air rushed in.
Behind him—
the bedroom door
slowly creaked open
without sound.
The darkness behind it
felt alive.
Rohan climbed out of the window
and dropped to the ground below.
He looked back—
the door was half-open.
And something inside the darkness
shifted.
Watching him.
Waiting.
Rohan didn't stay to find out what.
He ran.
Straight toward the orchard.
Because somehow—
he knew the orchard
was the only place
that could tell him
what wanted to come through his door.